


When I feel down, I want you above me

by makesometime



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: And Azu hits up the boys with frisky Aphrodite-sanctioned gifts, Hand Jobs, M/M, Massage, Post-Canon, Set in a completely nebulous world where everyone is alive and happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: “Massage is a useful tool, especially when you've got a ship full of people who need to be working at their best.” Zolf explains. “Or when you’re dealing with a man who won’t sit up properly at his own desk.”“And the straddling?” Oscar settles his palms over Zolf’s knees. “That happens every time?”
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 16
Kudos: 114





	When I feel down, I want you above me

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this but I'm not sorry.
> 
> (Title from the Divinyls song that I found impossible to get out of my head as soon as I thought about looking for a song with 'touch' in the title)

“I told you to stay still.”

Oscar shifts beneath him, giving a soft little laugh that drips with disbelief. “You certainly did. Before you started touching me like you've never done it before.”

He can't help but smile, sitting back to admire the long line of Oscar's back, shining and shimmering slightly in the low light of the bedroom thanks to the massage oil that Azu gifted them on her last visit. 

He places his palm low on Oscar's back, slides it across to rest over the man's hip and digs the heel of his hand into a knot. His fingers brush against his own inner thigh where he's sat astride Oscar's legs, and the touch leaves pleasant tingles in its wake.

“ _Fuck_ , what is in this oil?”

Zolf smirks, moving his hand up Oscar's back to encourage the blood flow away. “Azu didn't say.”

“Maybe not, but I saw the look on her face when she gave it to you. There's something - _gods_ \- something in this stuff.”

“Could just be the magic of my touch.” Zolf speaks around a smirk, and can feel the way that lands in the tightness of Oscar's lats. 

“Forgive me, but much as I do enjoy your hands, last I checked you weren't able to inject an aphrodisiac into my veins.”

Zolf hums, shifting his weight (he's not as unaffected as he thought he'd be by this). “How hard are you right now Oscar?”

The man groans, tipping his face into the pillows. “ _Very_.”

With an interested noise, Zolf swipes both palms up Oscar's back and feels the full-body shudder that inspires. He rocks his hips, cock nudging between Oscar's cheeks and the man all but shouts his annoyance, muffled as it is. 

“Haven't done your front yet.” Zolf says casually, enjoying the fresh line of goosebumps over Oscar's spine. “Can't neglect your pecs.”

“Is it gonna hurt?” Oscar says quietly, face turned to the side to catch a glimpse of Zolf. 

“Yes.” Zolf says, matter of factly. “That a problem?”

Oscar purses his lips, but they both know the answer. “No.”

“Shift over then.”

Oscar moves with all of his usual grace, his limbs heavy with relaxation and his cock full. He settles on his back and his hand flexes with the urge to relieve some of his aroused discomfort but Zolf moves before he can, settling back down over Oscar's lap. 

“Oh you're cruel.” Oscar breathes, as Zolf's cock nudges his own. “You are cruel and this is unfair.”

“Apologies for wanting to treat you.” Zolf says, not sorry in the slightest. “‘Sides, I’ve had my pecs worked on before, you need a distraction.”

“Where exactly did you pick up this particular skill?”

“Massage is a useful tool, especially when you've got a ship full of people who need to be working at their best.” Zolf explains, swirling more oil over the expanse of Oscar's chest. “Or when you’re dealing with a man who won’t sit up properly at his own desk.”

“And the straddling?” Oscar settles his palms over Zolf’s knees. “That happens every time?”

“Jealous?”

“ _Painfully_.”

Zolf laughs, spreading his palms to move the oil around and start to dig his fingers into the tightness of Oscar's pecs. “No, I save this for problem patients.”

Oscar groans, and it’s not all pleasure this time, tensing, _tensing_ and then relaxing as Zolf’s touch melts away some of the tightness. His cheeks flush with heat, heels digging into the bed as he fights not to push back into the pressure.

“You weren’t joking.” He says, voice breathy as the oil starts to sink into his skin. “I’m finding some new interests today, Zolf.”

Zolf rocks his hips a little, switching sides and feeling Oscar pulse against him. “Maybe leave the finer details out of your thank you note to Azu.”

Oscar laughs, though it breaks over a moan when Zolf works at his left pec. “Come now. You and I both know that’s all she wants to know.”

Zolf hums, falling otherwise silent while working Oscar’s delts, pretending to ignore the way Oscar is using his small amount of leverage to rock his hips. The play of emotions over the man’s face is harder to look away from; the secretly pleased-with-himself smile morphing into a grimace as Zolf hits a sore spot and urges the muscle back to supporting rather than undermining Oscar’s posture. 

The groans that fill the room pitch from pained to aroused increasingly quickly, the oil more than doing its job. Zolf feels it increasingly in a chasing heat that moves up from his hands, swirling through his chest to settle down in his groin.

“No wonder the Aphrodite lot are always so serene.” He mutters, which draws Oscar into a hiccuping laugh of sheer delight.

“Did this oil come with any warnings?” Oscar asks, airy and relaxed in a way Zolf’s rarely seen.

“I ain’t putting it inside you.”

“ _Gods_ no.” He says sharply, twitching at Zolf’s thumb rubbing over his nipple. “I think that might actually kill me once and for all.”

Zolf looks down at his hands, still covered in oil and raises an eyebrow at the man beneath him. “Want me to try something?”

Oscar’s smile is far too tender for a moment such as this, but it makes him feel all hot regardless. “I’m in your hands.”

He walks his fingertips down Oscar’s belly, feeling it tremble as his breathing picks up. Shifting his weight, he wraps his fingers around Oscar’s cock and starts to flex his wrist, letting himself be led by Oscar’s reactions.

“ _Zolf_.” He groans, back arching and eyes going a little unfocussed. “Oh _gods_ , can we send Azu a hundred roses or _something_.”

Zolf allows a rumble of laughter to move through him, angling his hips so that he can wrap his hand around himself as well. The hit of heat gets him right in the gut, his skin getting tight and tingly in a way that feels like Oscar is touching him everywhere all at once.

It’s effortless to lose himself in the hot press of Oscar’s skin, the way the man gasps so prettily around his name, encouraging and desperate in equal measure. He presses his palm to Oscar’s belly to steady himself and feels every inch of that contact, Oscar’s hand coming up to grip his forearm tight.

“M’close.” He murmurs. “Zolf…”

“I’ve got you, Oscar.” 

Oscar whines and shudders, Zolf holding him firm as he crests and spills over Zolf’s fist. The fierce satisfaction of making Oscar break and seeing him lax with pleasure spurs Zolf on to his own end, Oscar’s name on his lips. 

“Hang… hang on.” Oscar sighs, fingers spreading wide along his forearm when he tries to shift away. “I don’t think I can move. I think you’ve ruined me.”

“You don’t have to move.” Zolf murmurs, leaning forward to steal a kiss.

“Let me at least…” He mutters something quietly and the sticky feeling leaves Zolf's skin, making it less unpleasant to move. “Okay. Okay leave me here to die.”

Zolf laughs, sitting up and going through the motions of getting ready for sleep. By the time he’s curled up next to Oscar, the man is still working on steadying his breath, arm slung over his eyes and lips pulled into a broad smile.

“Dead yet?”

“Not quite.” He scoffs. “But it was a close run thing.”

Zolf tucks his head against Oscar’s chest and hums thoughtfully. “Good to hear. Cos we’ve still got at least half of that oil left.”


End file.
